


not telepathic yet

by joyfulsun



Category: Produce 101 (TV), X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, they don't actually have superpowers, they're just soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-22 23:24:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20000194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joyfulsun/pseuds/joyfulsun
Summary: His mind must’ve shut down and rebooted itself about three times in the span of ten seconds. To say he expected that would be the biggest lie he ever told. Wooseok would’ve much preferred the body slam at this point - at least his heart would’ve been beating faster due to pain and not other reasons.aka a quick drabble where yohan and wooseok learn to seek comfort through each other





	not telepathic yet

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!!
> 
> i actually started writing this before the final ep of pdx101 but then i had to get over my sadness of a few of my picks not making the final lineup lol (i'm also very very happy with the lineup at the same time don't get me wrong!)
> 
> anyways it's been a long time since i've written anything so pls let me know of any mistakes or if anything is unclear! (did i beta this - no, am i still gonna post it - yes)
> 
> yocat nation rise

Wooseok believes people are the most beautiful when they are in love. Whether it be with other people or with strong passions, there’s just a different spark; a whole new energy radiating from their presence. So you’d think, a program with just over a hundred boys willing to show all their pure talents, dreams and determination to the world? It should be inspiring and heart-warming, only leaving awe hanging in everyone’s mouth. 

But not all words are faultless. Or maybe Wooseok’s just at fault for thinking it’d be different. 

It ended up as something more like over a hundred boys walking into some grand disguise of a shooting range. Every move and interaction was not without mind of the blaring red target balancing on their head - their love and dreams for performing ready to be shot down at the sight of any wrong move. He walked into this program with hopes of a better opportunity to show more sides of himself, not just for his own assurance but for the rightfully deserved recognition for his groupmates at the very least. 

He walked into this program determined just like every other trainee. 

But like ice to a summer sun or a candle to a snowstorm, their passions may be strong, but perhaps only in a different context. 

-

As with every other day, practice and filming was just as grueling and tiring, and on the odd occasion fun. Except it had barely been hours since the last elimination and today’s meeting with the vocal and dance trainers, in particular, seemed to bring all the trainees a lot more stress. He was thankfully one of the few in his group that managed to scrape through with a compliment on his singing, though many received brutally honest feedback or barely any at all. Obviously, he shouldn’t be blaming the trainers for having higher expectations as it came closer to the finale, yet he can’t help but feel angry when they’ve all worked so hard to improve and showcase their talents but everything remains so focused on whatever they do wrong. As much as he wants to shout back at them, Wooseok stops himself from showing any reaction that he’d regret - he’s already been evil edited for just breathing.

The other teams aren’t out of the firing line either, getting their fair share of concerns and comments out of the trainers. It gets to the point where Wooseok has to tear his gaze away when he spots tears brimming on a few of the trainees’ eyes as they return to sit on the floor next to him, pondering upon their given feedback. Wooseok instead keeps his eyes trained on the directors behind the cameras in the room, searching for someone to perform some act of kindness, sympathy even, to at least direct the lenses away from the kids with tears already falling down their faces. 

After finally realising that harsher feedback and sensitive trainees clearly don’t mix, the staff call filming off early to give everyone some air. Wanting to spend some time alone, Wooseok finds himself an empty practice room at the other end of the building.  


-

“Hyung.” 

Wooseok turns to the low voice, barely making out the figure from the dim lighting of the practice room. 

“Practicing the dance in your head won’t get you far.” Yohan, his sight finally distinguishes, takes a seat beside him before continuing. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Wooseok gives the younger a small smile. Despite the entire team going off two hours of sleep and peak exhaustion after finalising the changed choreography, Yohan still keeps his energetic self. 

Wooseok turns to pat Yohan’s hair, willing to play along. “How did you know I was doing that? Maybe we’re telepathic.”

After managing to continue to the Top 30, the only true benefit on his end is more rooms are left open without cameras hidden in corners filming their every move (Wooseoks learned there’s only so many times you can get away with excusing yourself to the bathroom). The sad reality of losing over half of the trainees he started this journey with is truly what makes it difficult to continue sometimes and getting some time alone is probably the only thing stopping him from ripping his hair out from stress. Particularly when he tends to second guess himself against other, much more talented trainees. 

“It’s hard to tell what you’re thinking, hyung.” 

Yohan turns to make sure they’re facing each other, suddenly mimicking the patting motion Wooseok was doing. “We should work on our telepathy a bit more.” He continues, eyes crinkling from his wide smile.

Wooseok feels his heart pick up slightly at the sight. This is new.

It’s not like Wooseok is afraid of skinship, he’ll happily give out or receive hugs or hold hands or pat someone's head like now, just knowing the boundaries is sometimes a hurdle if they aren’t particularly close. He’s been told multiple times that his appearance can be quite cold and intimidating (he swears he doesn’t mean to) but being together for months and rotating through numerous groups with different members have helped clear that out. That being said, Wooseok still doesn’t think he’s on the same kind of level the other older trainees are on though. Jinhyuk, Seungwoo, and Seungyoun are the epitome of father figures and social butterflies, making it a lot easier for them to sing praises around any trainee and shower them with love even if they were to only have met yesterday. 

With Wooseok, Yohan’s difficult to read. He’s on this wide spectrum of babying other trainees to seeking attention to be babied. It also doesn’t help that, unlike his other hyungs or same-aged friends, Wooseok’s image itself doesn’t really fit the general ‘cool, reliable hyung’ stereotype. It was easier to dote on the trainees much younger than him so most of Wooseok’s efforts have been kept at a friendly distance with the younger, giving reassuring hugs here and there but never going any further that could make him uncomfortable. 

In conclusion, this is definitely new. 

Burying the strange flutter in his heart, Wooseok decides to take this moment to be the good hyung. Wooseok takes Yohan’s hand from his hair and holds it loosely in his hand, massaging it lightly. 

While it looks like Wooseok is about two seconds away from giving Yohan a mystic palm read in the middle of a practice room, they’re finally close enough for the elder to finally notice the stress and fatigue catching up to the other trainees face. Sure, Wooseok is currently placing first but it doesn’t dispel the fact the male beside him carried the burden way more weeks than him. It must be much harder than what he lets on. 

So Wooseok takes that thought to start the conversation. 

“Let’s start with you telling me what you’re thinking then we’ll work our way up to the telepathy stage.” 

Yohan takes it on happily, always willing to talk to anyone about anything as usual. It’s strange watching Yohan talk so enthusiastically, bunny smile and all, yet seem so distant at the same time. He first starts with stories about other trainees in the dorms or the funny episodes that happened during practice that he’s still laughing about (Wooseok may or may not have gotten on Seungwoo’s nerves for the first time). Occasionally laughing alongside him, Wooseok mostly decides to stay silent for most of the conversation, giving small nods to encourage the other to keep going.

Just when Wooseok thinks the younger really does only have some kind of positive Wii music playing in his head at all times, Yohan’s grip tightens in his palm in the middle of one story, right before he mentions the number of votes he got last elimination round. 

Yohan’s smile drops for a second, stopping mid-sentence to look Wooseok in the eyes. “Do you think I’ll be able to get the same amount of votes again?”

For a just-starting trainee who’s only improving by the minute, placing high without any benefit votes and an already strong fanbase behind him, Wooseok assumed votes to be less of a worry to him. Then again, final ranks should never be assumed early on this program.

Right as he’s about to reply, he sees Yohan move to run his hands through his hair, worry quickly filling his expression. “What if they don’t like my image anymore? I’m doing rapping again, maybe they won’t think it’s good.”

The situation reminds Wooseok of something he was once taught in high school, how the final line of newspaper articles are the most important. Not the most special or the most intriguing, just the most important. It’s not because it rounds everything up or gives the final answer to the question posed. Unlike most storytelling methods, the final line is unnecessary, unbinding; giving nothing new yet nothing shocking. The reader can stop reading from the first paragraph, even more so the first sentence and still get the general idea of the article. 

And from Wooseok’s perspective, that’s how Yohan’s been holding himself all this time. Not just to other trainees, but to everyone watching him through their screens. He’s already been labeled the star trainee, the front page of the newspaper; most audiences already satisfied with the mere title he was presented with. 

Of course, it’s a title rightfully earned after how hard he’s worked in such a short amount of time, but watching the said trainee unravel before him? That’s why they say the final line is important.

It’s almost like a privilege. For someone to stay, to listen until the curtains close, when the cameras turn, to read until the page is quiet and boring. They say for each final line read, there’s a million that didn’t. And perhaps Yohan was the author just waiting for someone to reach that line this entire time. 

“You deserved each one of those votes Yohan, if not more.” Wooseok tells him, reaching to grab his hands again and interlock their fingers to calm him back down. “You worked- no, you continue to work so hard and I’m sure even more people will see all the effort you put into performing.”

Yohan holds back a response in his throat and instead tries to turn his face into his shoulder to hide the tears already threatening to fall. Not wanting to push him to talk, Wooseok decides to change positions and sit even closer, pulling him into a hug. All the exhaustion and stress must’ve finally hit a point to let it all out. 

It hurts watching others cry and watching Yohan look so vulnerable hurts no less. Wooseok knows Yohan isn’t afraid to cry and it’s unfortunately not the first time he’s seen him bare tears both on and off-camera. Each time it happens though, whether it be full-blown sobbing or silent tears like now, it just reminds him how young the other trainee is. Obviously, there’s only a three year age difference between them but Yohan’s been a trainee for only three months, not three years - he’s still young in the sense of being exposed to the harsh world of the idol life. 

And Wooseok genuinely hopes it’ll treat him nothing but better after this is all over - so he tells him that. Over and over again.

After a few minutes of steady breaths and light rubs on his nape, it earns Wooseok a small apology and a ‘thank you’ whispered into his shoulder blade. 

When Yohan finally looks up, Wooseok still sees a hint of worry on the face looking back at him. 

“Don’t be sorry, you can always share your worries with me Yohan.” He reminds the other, using his thumb to wipe away the remnants of the trails the tears left on his face. 

Still caught up in the moment (and mostly because Yohan’s pouting face is right there!), Wooseok presses his lips right between where the younger’s brows furrow. 

It takes a couple seconds before Wooseok pulls back immediately, eyes widening at his own actions. He shouldn’t have done that. He can be very affectionate to other trainees but this is probably the first time Yohan’s even talked to him for more than a few minutes. Yohan trusted him enough to talk about the concerns he’s been harbouring all this time. What if he made him uncomfortable? Stepped over personal boundaries?

Despite the raging crisis going through his mind, Wooseok’s thankfully able to keep his composure calm on the outside and keep an eye on how the younger reacts. From what Wooseok observed from other interactions, Yohan would normally either laugh affections off (Seungwoo), jokingly slap them away (Yuvin) or maybe just squish their cheeks and leave (Hyeongjun). Except neither of the options seem to apply to him judging by Yohan’s blank face shying away from his gaze. 

It’s undeniable now that he’s done something wrong. 

Wooseok takes the first move and quickly peels himself off Yohan’s grip, murmuring a quick apology before he does anything else that would ruin their relationship. He manages to take a couple of steps towards the door until a strong grip on his wrist stops him on his path. 

There’s about four different ways this could go now: One, Yohan will confront him and presumably hate him from now on (likely). Two, Yohan will start avoiding him at all costs (very likely). Three, they’ll both walk outside and act like nothing ever happened (hopefully). Or four, Yohan will actually take his advice and talk to him more (possibly in some alternate universe).

In the midst of worrying about his determined fate with the other trainee, Wooseok doesn’t realise Yohan’s pulled him close to face each other again, hands lightly resting on the space between Wooseok’s neck and shoulders. Maybe Yohan likes confronting people rather intimately, Wooseok thinks. Either that or he’s preparing to do some kind of taekwondo slam on him. He deserves that. 

Bracing himself for the onslaught of harsh words or the possible slam on the ground, Wooseok keeps his eyes shut, unwilling to keep direct eye contact. 

Instead, Wooseok feels Yohan places his lips on the same place he did to him earlier. Soft would be the best way to explain it. Careful but warm. Like there’s some kind of meaning behind it. 

His mind must’ve shut down and rebooted itself about three times in the span of ten seconds. To say he expected that would be the biggest lie he ever told. Wooseok would’ve much preferred the body slam at this point - at least his heart would’ve been beating faster due to pain and not other reasons. 

Wooseok eventually looks up to see his favourite bunny smile spread wide across Yohan’s face. He must’ve teleported into some alternate universe to be able to see such a sight so close.

“Share your worries with me too, hyung.” Slowly, Yohan’s hands move up Wooseok’s neck to cup his cheeks. “We’re not telepathic yet.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading this quick drabble!
> 
> i've just recently made a new twt acc for x1 so feel free to follow ! (okay the link doesn’t seem to work lol but my username is @yowooseok ^^)


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